Taking Cover
by MistressOfRobins
Summary: Bruce's bed was safe; secure. It was a place Dick could always take cover and seek comfort no matter how old he became. YJAM Prompt: Five times Dick has slept in Bruce's bed. Father&Son centric. Family fic.
1. 1 of 5

**AN:** Done for the YJAM! Gotta love the relationship between Bruce and Dickie :3

**Inspired by this (minus the spaces):** http: / / brokendeathangel. deviantart. com/ gallery/ 27350744 ? loggedin =1#/ d2vi7f7

Just if someone's interested ;) Please review!

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><p><strong>1 – Dick, 8 Years Old<strong>

Richard John Grayson had never been a very easy frightened child. On the contrary, he had learned to be tough and quite fearless for an eight-year-old. It did, after all, take a lot of courage to learn what he'd been taught since the age of four. Acrobatics, if being learned properly, was not some pushover work. However, there were times where even Dick, _now_ adopted son of Bruce Wayne, ended up in a situation where he shamelessly had to admit he was scared; _very_ scared.

It was his first night at Wayne manor and the memories of his parents passing away were still strong within his mind. Lightning struck from the midnight sky and he could hear bat wings flapping outside the giant window. Maybe, if he hadn't gone through such a traumatic experience, he would have been able to convince himself that being afraid of something as silly as lightning and bats was plain idiotic.

But, Dick was, unfortunately, in a very fragile state. For each truck of lightning he would flinch and the hostile, creepy face of Tony Zucco would flash before him. Right now, his own child imagination was his worst enemy.

With a small whimper, Dick carefully removed the quilt from his body. Nude feet touched the cold surface of the enormous bedroom, practically leaping across it. Before Dick really knew it he was standing nervously outside the door of Bruce Wayne's bedroom, feeling like a small, negligible being and that everything around him had suddenly become so much bigger. Had that door looked so big when Alfred had previously showed it to him today? Somehow, young Dick didn't think so.

The small boy turned his blue eyes to the floor for a moment and then looked up at the door once again. He inhaled some air, let it out and then stood on his tiptoes to twist the doorknob around (very silently, of course). He made a small gap and peeked inside, nervously tightening his grip on the door.

Bruce Wayne was asleep. The tall, muscular man had a black quilt thrown over his shoulders, his back rising and falling softly and in a steady pace. Apparently, he was sleeping on his stomach.

Dick remembered the first time he'd seen this man. It had been at his parents' funeral a month ago. While he had mostly been occupied looking brokenly at their graves, his future, it seemed, had been a frequent topic between the Circus owner, Commissioner Gordon and, well, Bruce Wayne, Gotham's White Knight. As young as he was, he had no idea _what_ they had talked about and the grief of his loss had been far too great to let him focus on anything else anyway.

The first weeks after his parents' death had been awful. He had been moved to such a horrible place where he'd been beaten up more than once a day. Then, when he finally got away, he was moved to a catholic orphanage, which was not a big improvement at all. However, this tall, mighty man of Gotham, who had just been present to the Circus performance when his parents died, had approached him and asked (_asked_; he honestly cared for his opinion!) if he wanted to come live with him.

Though he was huge compared to little Richard Grayson, Bruce Wayne had felt safe to him. His eyes held security, understanding. It had been enough to gain Dick's trust and days after he had found himself at Wayne Manor, where he met Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's butler, and was given a tour around the facility – his new home.

Sure, the manor was not similar to his parents' camping van whatsoever and of course he missed it, but it was better than the juvenile and catholic orphanage. So much better.

Slowly and with great caution, Dick stepped inside. He glanced warily up at the giant bed while he took yet another step. It was his first night here, he barely knew Bruce Wayne… but… he didn't dare to sleep alone. If he went back he knew he would most definitely not sleep. He would lie awake, frightened and his parents' murderer fresh in his mind.

"I see you're awake,"

Dick had never gotten as startled as now. He let go of a shriek and flinched away, but calmed his beating heart when he noticed that it was his adoptive father was sitting up in the bed, eyeing him carefully.

"Everything all right, Dick?" he asked calmly, though with a slight frown on his face.

Blue eyes directed themselves to the ground and Dick let his right hand attach itself to his left arm, rubbing it nervously. This whole situation felt awkward and weird, because… he didn't _know_ this man. He just knew, that Bruce Wayne was a good guy. How he knew was simple. He had showed him nothing but kindness since he arrived. Silent, yes he was. Distant, yeah, that too. But his eyes were soft, held… something different – _different_ from the other adults around him who told him to forget.

Bruce understood. Bruce was safe. He didn't want him to forget.

"Nightmare?"

Dick looked up to meet the dark eyes of his new… No, not his father. Couldn't be. But the security of a father lay there, within those dark orbs. It made Dick feel a bit braver and yet, to his horror, he realised that salty tears were running down his cheeks. Gently and slowly, they rolled down his flushed skin and he, subconsciously, sniffled. Why did he cry like this? What had happened to make him lose those tears?

Those drops he'd hold black ever since the funeral.

The funeral Bruce had paid for. Already back then, he'd cared and Dick had no idea why he did.

Then, right out of nowhere, Bruce Wayne was kneeling before him, looking him in the eyes. "The nightmares are always worse when you're alone," he said, shifting a bit. Bruce did feel uncomfortable, but he tried not to let it show. "I know it too well."

Dick didn't answer, but instead sniffed again. Annoyingly enough, the tears just kept coming. "I-I… miss them," whispered the dark haired boy.

"I know."

Strong, robust arms were suddenly around him and then his face came in contact with a chest. It smelled… like Bruce. All ice-walls melted, all distance was gone. Dick let this safe man embrace him and hold him close. "You want to sleep here?" Bruce said calmly, never loosening his hold on the boy.

"Y-yeah," sniffled Dick.

The bed was soft and so big. He felt small, but not like before – now it was okay. With Bruce stroking his back soothingly, though a bit hesitant, it was different. The bed could've been a thousand times bigger and it wouldn't have mattered.

With his face pressed against Bruce's chest, Dick sobbed quietly, but as time dragged on they subsided. His breath evened out, his heart calmed and soon small, barely noticeable snores were heard from the young boy. Bruce Wayne could only smile silently as he too settled in his bed once again. He felt insecure about taking in the boy, but right now… he felt like he'd done the right thing.

Tony Zucco's face did not show itself in Dick's dreams. Instead, he dreamt of… American Robins. They felt safe too.

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><p><strong>Part 1 of 5<br>**


	2. 2 of 5

**AN:** Wow, wow, wow O.O Had no idea so many would like this! Thank you all; you're _awesome_! It is so much appreciated, believe me! :D

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><p><strong>2 – Dick, 9 Years Old<strong>

Being Robin was amazing. Sure, the trials of being a teenage superhero and partner of the Dark Knight had its down points, but it was also a natural feeling to it. Yes, being Robin felt natural to him. Maybe it was because the name of the Boy Wonder was given to him by his mother. And she had given it to him for a reason. He was lithe and when he did acrobatics it was almost like he was flying.

When he trained with Bruce, the Batman, When they worked together, fought together – that statement was more true than one could imagine. Robin really did feel like he could fly when he did his job. It wasn't because being a superhero was exciting, thrilling and made adrenaline pump through him. Neither was it because he felt powerful and talented when he did what _very_, _very_ few nine year olds had done through their lives.

True, those were reasons as well, but what really made him feel like flying were those times when Robin and Batman saved people of Gotham on the streets and Dick could glance over his shoulder and see kids running into their father or mother's arms, embracing what they held dearest. Those times reminded him that what he did prevented other boys and girls to feel the pain he'd felt and still was troubled with.

It was reassuring.

Richard still remembered when he'd discovered who Bruce was. It wasn't all that unbelievable really, though very ironic. The White Knight of Gotham and the Dark Knight of Gotham were one and the same – the same, stoic, tall man. He had been so excited, so _glad_, because he soon understood that what Batman focused on was solving the crime of who killed his parents. And he, he could help! He really could! Of course, Bruce rejected the idea, because _Batman_ worked alone.

Yet, here he was and not as Dick Grayson, but Robin – The Boy Wonder. It had all worked out for them both and together they'd brought Tony Zucco down.

Sweet justice was what it had felt like for Robin.

Missions came and mission went. Dick learned; he became better, _much_ better. Unfortunately, there was one time he wasn't good _enough_.

It had actually been a quiet night. Gotham's streets were filled with everyday people and no crimes had been committed. Unusually quiet, yes, but Batman and Robin felt somewhat relieved. It was not often they both could finish early, so they took the opportunity while they had it.

Or, they had _thought_ they could quit patrol early.

They had been half way home when the sound of sirens could be heard throughout Gotham. All Batman had to do was turn on the police radio to get the information they needed. There had been a brief break-in at a jewellery store close to their destination and since it was close Batman and Robin decided to take action.

The jewellery stolen seemed to be of very high value, which explained why there was more than one guy involved in the robbery. It was many of them. A whole gang, who had almost emptied the whole store. They were no ordinary robbers. Whereas the usual robbers Robin had encountered had been far more sloppy, these turned out to be exceptionally trained within martial arts.

They were more like ninjas than robbers, Robin thought as he'd lend a punch to another of the robbers approaching. He really didn't understand why they would go to such lengths for something as… _plain_ as jewellery. That seemed more like something Catwoman would do. Not that it changed anything. His skills were still being tested.

He dodged a hand shooting out in his direction; then he grabbed another arm that came toward him from behind and flung the owner of said arm into the man before him, using all the strength the nine year old possessed. Robin barely had time to snort by how they fell like flies now, before another pair of punches came his way.

The Boy Wonder leaped up, took a back flip and landed on a man's back, causing him to fall unconscious. "You guys do this for _jewellery?_ I mean, _seriously_, you Catwoman's pets or is she's just your inspiration?" he asked disbelieved. He lent a punch, threw a birdarang to the right and took a few flic-flacs to make some distance between himself and the criminals that kept coming.

Still, because of being young and a bit too inexperienced, Robin did not notice the man sneaking up behind his back before it was too late. The man had him trapped in a headlock in seconds, a gun put straight against Dick's temple. The robin had been caught and he wasn't going to get loose anytime soon.

Fear. It dwelled up in Dick's heart at once.

"All right, men pull back!" roared the man who had Robin trapped. His goons complied and backed away to give Batman the horrifying view of his beloved partner trapped like a little bird. That man could fire off his gun any minute and it made Bruce's heart clench painfully in his chest.

Why? Why did everyone he cared deeply for get a gun directed toward them? Why had he let Robin with him here in the first place?

He had done a mistake. Such a big mistake.

"Ok, Batsy! You letn' us leave and bird boy over here won't be shot… if I feel generous that is, so back off!"

Dick watched helplessly as the bad guys ran past him and that smelly man that held him. Hadn't that gun been so close to his temple he would have fought, would have struggled. However, there was nothing he could do. He was frozen with fear and guilt. These stupid lowlifes were going to escape because of _him_, because he wasn't good enough. Some partner of Batman he was.

Batman's white eyes were narrowed toward the man, but he didn't move a muscle. Instead, the caped hero waited with his heart beating fast against his chest. The man was now smirking, his filthy, dark eyes gleaming with triumph. Slowly, he let go of Robin, though the gun was still directed toward the sidekick. It was obvious that the man was having fun and it made Bruce grit his teeth together.

Filthy, loathsome, _monster_, thought the Dark Knight.

Five metres from the Boy Wonder and Batman understood. That man did not 'feel generous' as he had put it. He was going to shoot, despite his promises.

Through his career as Batman Bruce had learned to be fast, to be a step ahead of his opponent, but this time his reaction was a tad bit too slow. His grappling gun fired off enough to swirl itself around the gun. The man pulled the trigger, but he had yanked his hand upward fast enough to change the direction of the bullet.

And yet, Bruce heard his adoptive son scream.

He had just not been fast enough. Not as fast as he should have been.

Batman was quick afterwards though. He punched the man harshly in the stomach, before throwing him into the building, gaining a crack sound, which could only indicate he had managed to break something. Inwardly, the Caped Crusader felt livid, _outraged_, for what had just happened. However, he controlled himself, hardly, and after tossing the man into the wall yet again he let him slip to the ground.

Finally, he heard the late police cars in the distance, but he didn't stick around. He turned to his side and faster than ever before he scooped his ward (gently) up in his strong arms and disappeared into the night. The only trace Commissioner Gordon found when he arrived was the bleeding, broken man, which was all they needed to find the other punks.

Meanwhile, Bruce had brought Robin back to the Batcave. It was a relief that the bullet had only brushed the boy's shoulder, but the wound still didn't look good. It took Alfred five short minutes, however, to clean it and patch it up, while Robin suppressed the urge to groan in pain. He already felt like a failure; he didn't have to show weakness as well.

He was a stubborn nine-year-old indeed.

"I think I'll prepare some tea, Master Bruce," Alfred announced when Dick was bandaged and ready. "Unless the two of you plan to go straight to bed?"

"We will. The police have the case covered, since they got their leader." replied Bruce curtly as he finally removed the cowl from his head. He threw a glance over at his ward who still hadn't raised his gaze from the ground.

Alfred left silently, throwing Bruce a final glance, which screamed of 'talk to him!', before he vanished up the stairs. The billionaire, of course, approached his adoptive son shortly after, a hand placed on the young boy's shoulder. Dick's mask was removed, so when he looked abruptly up deep, dark blue eyes met the crime-fighter of Gotham. They looked so broken that Bruce felt something stir within him.

"It was my fault," whispered Dick. "I was reckless."

"You're still learning," Bruce said reassuringly and squeezed his shoulder. "Besides, I should have been more careful myself. I'm the adult and I'm the one responsible for you." He sighed and served the shoulder another squeeze. "I should have examined the situation better and prevented us from getting separated like we did. Don't blame yourself too much."

There was a long pause with silence, before Dick's eyes affect on him strengthened. He would never fathom what the boy did to make them… so… so irresistible.

"Can I… Can I sleep with… you?" asked Dick hesitantly.

Batman sent him a small smile and ruffled his bangs. "All right."

It wasn't because Dick was scared he fell asleep in his adoptive father's arms that night. It was a way of assuring himself that he was not alone. The sound of Bruce's heartbeat made him relax; it chased away all insecurity. Though he still felt guilty, falling asleep in his… father's arms felt so much better than lying alone.

Sometimes, Dick just needed to feel safe. With Bruce, he did.

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><p><strong>2 of 5<strong>


	3. 3 of 5

**AN: **Third part up (: Enjoy!

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><p><strong>3 – Dick, 10 Years Old<strong>

Gotham's Dark Knight felt his eyebrow twitch as he threw a glance over in his ward's direction. Young Dick Grayson, now dressed in his Robin costume, was enjoying himself by the giant climbing frame the playground had to offer, while his, now, best friend, Kid Flash was accompanying him. The two kids were playing something they had, oh-so-originally, dubbed 'catching the villain' where they both switched on being the bad guy.

Currently, it was Robin playing the role of the villain and, though the youngster had specifically told Kid Flash which baddie he was ("I'm the Joker, you stupid, big dummy! The _Joker_!"), his redheaded best friend kept calling him 'Catwoman'. It was obviously because he wanted to tease the younger kid, but Batman didn't find it amusing, because that child was _loud_ and now influenced Dick to be loud as well.

Truthfully, he was glad that Richard finally had a friend who was not only around his own age, but was also in the same situation as him. All Batman had to do was think back to the other day, when his adoptive son's absolutely thrilled, beaming face had looked at him because he was going to meet Kid Flash, and he did not regret ever introducing them. Dick had been overjoyed to hear that his, rather overprotective father, had finally given in to let him befriend someone.

Sure, Dick had some buddies at Gotham Elementary, but they were not ideal to be deep friendship material. Dick had people around him, but Robin didn't, so introducing Kid Flash to the Boy Wonder would, as Alfred had claimed, be a very good experience for him. Yes, Bruce had been hesitant, but had agreed, though a bit reluctantly, to the butler's proposal.

So far, he had no doubts that he had done the right thing.

"_The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout! Down came the rain, and washed the spider out! Up came the sun, and dried up all the rain, and the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again!"_

At least he didn't think so…

Though that Kid Flash surely was different from his own Richard. No doubt.

"Stop singing!"

"Will not!"

"Will _too_!"

"Nope, Robbie!"

"I'm a better singer than yo~ou!"

"Nu-uh, you're not Rob-Rob!"

"I'll show you, Kid Dumb!" said the ten-year-old, grinning as he jumped up and grabbed one of the poles in the climbing frame. "_Bats are sleeping, Bats are sleeping, Upside down, Upside down! Sleeping in the morning sun, waiting for the night to come. Then they'll fly all around. Then they'll fly all around!_"

Batman sighed deeply and then Flash was suddenly before him, hands crossed a smirk on his face. Realisation dawned on him and he scowled at the other hero, a bit more hostile than usually. He should have known why that kid was so familiar; obviously, speedsters like Barry Allen was a _really_ bad influence. Maybe introducing Dick to Kid Flash was not such a good idea, after all. Who knew how much that little… _thing_ could corrupt young Richard's mind.

Okay, so now he was being unfair. Barry was a great hero and, though he was _the complete_ opposite of Bruce himself, the fastest man alive deserved a bit more respect from him. At least when he wasn't saying anything vocally, but instead was thinking broodingly to himself like he used to.

"They seem to be getting along fine," said Flash as he took his arms on his hips and glanced fondly over at his nephew, whom first recently had figured out that his uncle Barry and his biggest idol of all times were one and the same. "Don't you think so too, Bats?"

"Yeah, sure," murmured Batman curtly. "Though I did not just contact you because of this…"

"Play date?"

"… _meeting_."

"Fine, fine, call it whatever you want, Batsy." Flash gained a heated glare from those white covered eyes, before he cleared his throat and continued. "So, you wanted to discuss something important, right?"

Sometimes, Flash' questions were dumb.

Whereas their mentors were busy, Kid Flash had finally captured Robin, pinning him down while giggling. The Boy Wonder, however, felt less amused and instead was growling like an animal. A _small_ animal, according to Kid Flash. That little comment was, of course, enough to make Robin growl even louder.

However, the sound that came out was so… _weird_, that both of them ended up laughing loudly. Kid Flash lost his grip on the smaller boy and they made distance between themselves as they sat down on each swing, glancing over at their, still talking, mentors. It made Kid Flash huff.

"I don't like when uncle Barry has to speak for so long. He always does that, you know. He even uses too much time actually talking to the villains we fight against. Can you believe that?" The redheaded twelve-year-old sighed and swung with his legs back and forth. "Talking's boring."

"You're so impatient," Robin said as he placed both feet on each side of the black tire that made the swing and hoisted himself up. "I do this all the time and sometimes it's not even because of talking! Sometimes, Batman and I have to sit on a rooftop for _hours_!"

"That sounds boring."

"It is, but it's not all _that_ bad."

"Yeah, right!"

They shared a thrilled laugh, before the redheaded boy offered to push the swing, using his super-speed. Robin, who easily concluded what level awesomeness _that_ would achieve, agreed wholeheartedly and soon the swing was going faster than ever. Dick was having the time of his life, laughing and giggling. His laughter only increased when Kid Flash jumped up on the swing as well.

Both boys' outmost glee echoed through the playground; carefree, happy sounds.

"Hey, Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to you to know something!" announced Kid Flash, grinning down at Dick who glanced up at him. "My name. It's Wallace West," he said, but only loud enough for them both to hear. "You can call me Wally."

Dick smiled and yelled for _Wally_ to make it go faster.

Of course, the Dark Knight, despite his conversation with the Flash, heard them both laughing and there and then Batman knew he'd done the right thing. Maybe though, if Bruce had known what was going to happen behind his back he would have regretted introducing the two, after all.

After six months, ten-year-old Robin did something he'd never done before. He directly, all-knowingly, disobeyed his mentor, _his father's_, orders of never, ever revealing his secret identity. Maybe it was stupid for a boy only ten years of age to think that what he was doing was the right thing, but Dick ignored that logic.

In his mind, he didn't do anything wrong.

"Rob, why did you want to meet me here?" asked Wally when he found the shorter male, leaning against the tree. To his surprise though, Robin, the Boy Wonder, was out of costume and instead wore a black sweatshirt, dark jeans and black sunglasses covering his eyes. That was not what he'd expected.

"Hey," Robin greeted and grinned like there was nothing unusual going on, completely ignoring the other sidekick's question. "Knew you'd make it."

"Rob, what's up with the civvies?" Wally asked curiously.

There was a long pause, before the dark haired boy grabbed his best friend by the arm and dragged him out of reach. When the trees of Gotham Park had them hidden well, Robin dragged his breath and met Wally's green, bewildered eyes. Obviously, this was very confusing for the redhead and Robin couldn't really blame him for that.

Nervously, the brunet looked to the ground. "I have… something I want you to see."

Wally just blinked and tilted his head to the side. It wasn't often one saw Robin nervous and, frankly, it made the redhead uneasy to witness it. But, as the happy-go-lucky twelve-year-old he was, he quickly brushed the uncomfortable feelings away and instead put a hand on his best friend's little shoulder. "Come on, Rob! We're best friends; you can tell me anything!"

"No, I can't… I mean, I couldn't… but I will."

Wally blinked once again and felt his jaw drop when the smaller male reached up and put both hands on the sides of his sunglasses. He opened his mouth ask what in the world Robin was doing, but found himself speechless when blue eyes met green. Wow, that was very unexpected.

"Hi, I'm Richard John Grayson, but you can call me Dick," introduced the young boy and reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Wally."

When Dick had told Wally who he truly was he felt relieved. However, when he was back in Wayne manor, making himself ready for bed the confidence and relief had been washed away and left guilt in the pit of his stomach. Now, it finally had dawned on him what he'd truly done. He'd gone against a strict rule and he'd broken a promise.

How could he call himself Bruce Wayne's son when he had disobeyed him like this?

He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve Bruce, didn't deserve Alfred, or this home; he didn't deserve their kindness.

Five minutes later Dick lay snuggled in Bruce's bed, his adoptive father's quilt draped over him. Bruce wouldn't be going to bed for at least two hours, if not more if something on the Batman front occurred. However, Dick didn't care. The scent of Bruce calmed him and though it was hard to sleep with the guilt he felt, he fell asleep.

It took four hours, but eventually Bruce returned from a long night as Batman. What he found made him raise an eyebrow. Through the years, he knew his son had taken a liking to sleep in the same bed as him. Robin, _Dick_, wished for safety, because even though it had been two years since his parents had been taken from him the small boy still feared for it to happen again.

And this time to Bruce.

The Dark Knight concluded yet another nightmare had prevented the youngster from falling asleep. Silently, he approached the bed, hardly noticing the soft look in his eyes and the small smile that tugged his lips. The right term for a sleeping Dick Grayson could only be 'adorable', but neither Batman (nor Bruce Wayne) did _adorable_, he settled with calling it… charming. Yes, that word he would do.

Big fingers ran through the boy's dark locks and after followed a chaste kiss on the forehead as Bruce also settled back into his bed. With his hand resting around his ward's shoulders, he fell asleep, ignorant to the guilt his son had felt when he slipped into a heavy slumber.

The billionaire wouldn't know either, but it was definitely the last time Dick ever disobeyed. Especially since he woke up to the calm face of his father the day after. He never wanted to go against a rule made by Bruce once more.

Never.

Just... never again.

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><p><em>Oh, the sweetness… (; Thanks for all the reviews, folks! Please continue with the comments, because they are such an inspiration to me (: They actually make me write faster! :D<br>_

_~ Suzume-sama_

**3 of 5**


	4. 4 of 5

**Note:** I just posted a new FanFic called "I loved Him First". This is about Bruce realising how much Dick's growing up. I have to warn you though it contains: KF/Robin, meaning _slash_, so for those who don't like such, I don't recommend reading it. For those who find it interesting, please read and review it! ;D

On with the story!

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><p><strong>4 – Dick, 11 Years Old<strong>

Dick was aware that media could be a bother. After becoming the ward of Bruce Wayne, one would have be blind not to notice how paparazzi photographers and journalists loved to invade famous people's privacy. Then again, Bruce had been quite persistent to keep him away from all bad, media influence, so for Dick the fact that his father was famous had not been much of a problem.

What had turned out to become a problem though, was the _other_ thing fame brought with.

His adoptive father's female admires.

Bruce Wayne had been forced to take a weeklong business trip to Boston, where he would meet a lot of businessmen all over the United States. At first, Dick hadn't thought much of it. Since he had attended a lot of evenings like these he figured that it would be no different from any other get-together these businessmen seemed to have.

Yet, it turned out to be far worse than the ones before.

Of course, Dick was used to women throwing themselves at his guardian's feet, but truthfully it had been a while since he'd witnessed it – last time was probably a couple of months ago when he was still ten – and therefore he, himself, got confused of the rage that dwelled up in him when the first woman had wrapped her arms around Bruce's biceps.

Something had, apparently, happened from those three months he had not been around to see women flirting with his guardian. Anger, annoyance, hostility, _loath_ – he felt it all when that blonde haired lady laughed by something his guardian had said, pressing herself closer to him.

They were… so _false_. How could Bruce accept them being so close to him? _How_?

Dick didn't have anything against females being close to Bruce generally. The Dark Knight had many female friends. Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, Black Canary – they all were close to his father in some way, despite his cold nature as Batman. Also, there had been Mrs. Emmons, his former teacher, who also had formed a friendship with Bruce, but he had never felt that anger toward her.

It was to those… big-breasted, dieting, plastic experiment women that were the problem.

Blue eyes glared up as the woman reluctantly left his father alone and without realising it Dick had reached out and grabbed his guardian's hand. That did, of course, earn him a raised eyebrow in response. Bruce didn't get around to comment it though before yet another woman came along, speaking flirtingly with him.

He thought he heard her mention how… _dashingly_ alike they were, which made him want to puke. Also, the way she talked about Dick made him feel like a little baby.

Sure, the fact that he now held on to his father's hand for his dear life probably didn't help her change that image, but that was just because he wanted to remind Bruce that he was here and that _he_ was real.

Those women was _not_ with him because he was a great businessman, a super detective, a fighter for justice, a good father, smart, fair and though he was strict, distant and could sometimes be a bit on the harsh side – he was in all ways a fantastic person. Instead, these women only clung to him because he was _rich_, because he was _famous_ and _handsome_.

These women were one thing and one thing only: _shallow –_ lacked depth of intellect, emotion, and knowledge.

Yeah, he had read a dictionary on their way to Boston. Don't judge; he was a curious, bored eleven-year-old.

"So, how long has it been since you took him in, Brucie?" asked the blondie, gaining Dick's attention. She sent the young boy a brilliant, unnaturally white smile and clapped her hands together. "He's grown so much, I must say. So, handsome! He's totally taking after you, Brucie!"

This woman was stupid and why did she keep repeating herself? She had said that when she first approached them. Also, how could he 'take after Bruce', when they weren't biologically related? Sure, the way he _acted_ could be taken from Bruce, but she was talking about appearance.

Yes, he had become quite smart the last couple of months it seemed. Or, maybe that dictionary did wonders.

"Thank you, Mrs. Oakley. It's been three years actually," Bruce answered her. He had that polite smile Dick just hated; the Boy Wonder _knew_ that it was fake. It was to prevent any form for similarities between Bruce Wayne and Batman to appear, because for the outside world Bruce and Batman were two _very_ different persons. For Dick, he was one and the same and it was only at these parties that showed a non-existing Bruce Wayne.

A façade, a _mask_.

"So, Dickie," said the woman and smiled that creepy smile again. That nickname almost made him gag, but only because it came from _her_. "How are you today? You enjoy the party?"

_No and stop clinging to my dad, you stupid wench._

"Yeah, it's all right," Dick said, not really smiling. "There are many… nice people here, ma'am."

"Oh, there are, Dickie," the blonde haired woman agreed and put her hands on her knees. She bowed down so she was at the young boy's eyelevel; Dick tried hard to ignore that cleavage because it made him sick. He was eleven – girls still had cooties in his mind. "So, you have a girlfriend yet?"

_Ew. No! Are you _dumb_ or do you just pretend?_ thought Dick.

"No."

"Why not?" she continued, not noticing how his false smile had turned to a glare. "Such a handsome man should have a little girl around. I bet you will attract them just like your dad."

When she batted her eyelashes toward her father, Dick felt something within him snap.

"I hope not! I don't want shallow, stupid, idiotic girls like _you_ clinging all over me! No thank you!" he suddenly said loudly, hands clenched and eyes shut closed. It felt good finally shouting it, but soon the dread spread throughout his body.

Christ, what he just _done_?

Without daring to look at anything or anyone, Batman's secret protégé ran out of the nicely decorated hall. It was a big hotel, but Dick, smart as he was, had no problems remembering what hotel room he and Bruce were staying at.

Soon he had shut the door harshly behind himself (he'd had an extra keycard in his tuxedo pocket) and then threw himself at the bed belonging to Bruce. The pillow his guardian had used the previous night was soon dragged under his nose so Dick could smell that calming scent. It was times like these, when he felt guilty and ashamed, he wished even stronger that he had his mother here to scold him.

She had been a good scolder (he didn't care if that wasn't a word; he'd made it), because she had made him understand what he'd done wrong in a way that made him never want to do it again, _but_ she was gentle enough to prevent him from feeling so bad about himself that he felt nauseous.

Mary Grayson was not here anymore though and therefore the guilt and shame was eating him up from the inside. Bruce would be so mad at him and if there was one thing Dick didn't want it was seeing his guardian disappointed and mad. Sure, he was used to the, sometimes harsh, treatment of Batman, but not Bruce. Bruce was different and Dick truly _hated_ when he let the tall man down.

No one had forced Bruce Wayne to take him in, he was not _obliged_ to, so Dick meant he should be grateful and act properly – not _yell_ like a spoiled brat to a woman who was possibly a friend of Bruce's.

God, he was such a disappointment.

Dick could already picture the headlines for tomorrow. «Ward of Bruce Wayne Throws Tantrums – Where did Gotham's White Knight go wrong?»

Yeah, that sounded _lovely_.

"Dick?"

The Boy Wonder cringed and buried his face deeper into the pillow – _Bruce's_ pillow. His eyes were stinging and he knew the tears were threatening to spill. They would not admit defeat and soon salty drops ran down his cheeks due to the overwhelming feel of contempt.

Dick felt like such a disgrace that he didn't notice how Bruce's voice held no hint of either anger nor disappointment. In fact, the billionaire sounded concerned.

Bruce found his ward, still wearing his black tuxedo, tucked in his bed with the quilt wrapped around him and the big pillow containing most of his face. If the boy's dramatic leave hadn't still been fresh within his mind Bruce would have left the boy there so he could fall asleep, but they had something important to discuss.

Sleeping, Dick could do later.

"I dwon't dwant to twalk abwout it," Dick said, his voice sounding muffled due to the pillow. It was not enough to lose the meaning of it though – Bruce heard enough.

With heavy sigh, the dark man loosed his tie, removed the black jacket and then sat down on the bed, his eyes resting on the small boy. He hadn't even gained much height since he was eight. Though some changes were, of course, evident, Bruce felt he still looked down at the same boy he'd taken as his own three years ago.

_Time sure flies_, thought the dark haired man. They sat in silence for a while before Gotham's protector decided to take action.

"Fine, then I want you to listen, Dick," Bruce finally said seriously. "What you did down there is unacceptable. Yelling like that is very rude and no matter how much you want to you need to learn that in the environment I'm in one cannot truly express what one really feels. It's a false, depthless environment, but what is important is that _you_ know what's real. The other stuff you just have to endure…. No matter how tempting it is to express oneself."

Bruce smirked a bit. "Like you did today; it's amusing for me, but not for Mrs. Oakley, you understand?"

"She deserved it!" Dick suddenly said, his face now looking at Bruce from the side, his cheek resting on the pillow. His small hands clutched the quilt. "She doesn't know you at all and yet she's acting like… like… like…"

"She means something to me?"

Dick turned his face away, tears prickling. "Yes."

Large hands connected with his dark hair, stroking through it softly, calmly. "Dick, there will be many people who claim to _know_ me and that you just have to deal with," said Bruce. "What's important is that you know they don't – _you_ know the real me. Actually, it is only you and Alfred who knows."

Dick sniffled. "Not even Superman, Flash or… or Arrow?"

"They're my colleagues…" reminded Bruce, before adding: "In some odd way."

"Yeah, but they know you're Bruce Wayne."

"Might be, but they are never around when I am Bruce Wayne, are they? And if they are it is League business we discuss." Bruce scooted closer into the bed, so he now was lying on the side, looking at Dick, while his right arm supporter his head with the hand. "What you did today; promise you won't do it again, all right?"

That stern, aloof look Dick recognised. It was Batman's look, but it didn't frighten him at all. It made him understand – kind of like his mother had, though a _lot_ gentler of course. "Yeah," Dick said and nodded. "I promise. I'll never do it again."

"Good," the Dark Knight said, he then signalised for the boy to sit up so he could remove the clothes from him. "Then we agree."

When Dick was only in the black, sleeveless shirt he'd wore under all his other attire, the boy laid back down, tucking himself into the bed once again. Bruce removed his own clothes, so he too was in a white, sleeveless shirt and boxers, before he too laid down, exhaling deeply.

It had been a long day.

"You won't be going back to your own bed, will you?" Bruce said, a small smile tugging his lips.

The billionaire raised an eyebrow at the small boy who suddenly clung to him like a lifeline. He didn't know if he should feel proud that Dick had leapt up in his lap, before _he_, Batman, could react or simply a bit annoyed.

"Not a chance. I need to make sure _they_ won't come in and rape you!"

After hearing that, Bruce decided to keep Dick away from any of his fancy parties until he had undergone some more discipline training from Batman, thus keeping him away from his female admires.

It was for the best – for him, for Dick and for the poor women who would have to feel the wrath of an uncontrolled Robin.

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><p><em>It can't be all hurtcomfort now can it ? xD Had to end it a bit on the funny side. Oh don't worry, Dickie~poo, your daddy won't get raped! He's _Batman_, for crying out loud!_

_Review please! :D They make me happy :D_

_~ Suzume-sama_


	5. 5 of 5

**Note:** I just posted a new FanFic called "I loved Him First". This is about Bruce realising how much Dick's growing up. I have to warn you though it contains: KF/Robin, meaning _slash_, so for those who don't like such, I don't recommend reading it. For those who find it interesting, please read and review it! ;D

On with the story!

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><p><strong>5 – Dick, 16 Years Old<strong>

It happened occasionally. Bruce Wayne had long since concluded that it brought his adoptive son some unique kind of comfort. It had become quite apparent how much it meant to his young ward through the years, but after the boy reached thirteen, where he apparently had hit a rebellious phase, it had not happened. Not even _once_.

Not even after a mission gone terribly wrong with his team. Not after his fights with his best friend. Not on stormy nights. Not even after the big Christmas party Wayne Tech had held when the boy was fourteen and three women, all at once, had flung themselves at his dear father. Heck, Dick Grayson had barely even blinked when it happened.

Supposedly, one would think Bruce (the goddamn _Batman_!) would not think much of it. Consider the fact that he had often questioned whether it was good for Dick to attach himself to his bed like that, he should have been pleased when the boy stopped crawling in with him at night, snuggled up to his chest.

So why _did_ he care?

Quite frankly, Bruce had pondered and weighted every reason for it and yet, even after three years; Dick now was well into his sophomore year, he had no answer. It simply did not make any sense to him.

However, when it came to musing and seeking for answers, Batman was not only extremely talented, but also a bit on the lucky side. Sometimes, difficult questions came to him like a slap in the face. Hard and unexpected.

It had just been a brisk stroll through the manor, honestly. The door to one of the many bathrooms had been left completely open, perking Bruce's curiosity. Casually, he had glanced inside and found his son looking at himself in the mirror, hands massaging hair-gel into the coal black hair. It was such a ordinary gesture, Dick did it the same way _every_ morning to make his hair look good, and yet, when seeing his son in that particular situation, it went up for Bruce what had happened right before his eyes.

His little partner, his adoptive _son_, was no 'little robin' anymore. In fact, that bird was going to leave the nest soon.

True, Richard was still just a sophomore, but two short years and he would, most likely, go to college. Two short years and maybe, just maybe, Robin would decide to try out the crime fighting on his own.

It physically ached in his chest when he thought it over. After all, that little runt had, for reasons Bruce Wayne could simply not understand, crawled under his skin. They had by all means had their ups and downs through their relationship as Robin and Batman, as well as Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne, but nothing could change the fact that Dick had easily been qualified as his son.

Blood relations didn't matter and though Bruce was very much aware that he could never replace John Grayson, he knew that Dick cared for him the same way a son would for a father. To think that time had passed so quickly and that the boy was ready to spread his wings on his own, it was… overwhelming.

While the new feeling of realisation settled in his stomach, Bruce, undetectably by Dick, made his way to the living room of Wayne Manor. There he sat down, a frown on his face as his dark eyes stared out in the air. The need to reminisce had taken him over and suddenly old memories were floating back to him. Good ones, involving Dick and his growth.

Suddenly, Bruce Wayne felt old, which was highly ridiculous. He was thirty fives years old for crying out loud, meaning that he still had five years before he even reached _forty_. If one took into account that he also _looked_ younger than he actually was then feeling old was simply laughable.

However, Bruce Wayne had become a single parent for a child when the boy was eight and Bruce twenty-seven. Since Dick had been eight years of age when he was accepted into Wayne manor it was understandable that Bruce felt time passed a bit too quickly. After all, when a child was eight it was really just five years and then the kid was a teen and six more years and the child had grown into a young man.

Two more years and the young man would be eighteen where college and… other activities, that Bruce really didn't want to even _consider_ his ward could be wising to do, was a fact. Truthfully, he knew what had been desired himself in that age, but such he would absolutely _not_ think about. Some things were better left forgotten.

Bruce's thoughts were interrupted as Alfred came up, a tray with teacups, a teakettle and cookies in his hands. Of course, the butler always knew when his cookies were most appreciated.

"Reminiscing are we, Master Bruce?" asked Alfred as he put the tray down on the coffee table in front of Bruce. Really, the billionaire felt it was more like a statement then a question, but answered it anyway.

"Yeah, it suddenly dawned on me that time is practically slipping between my fingertips," sighed the younger man as he accepted the teacup, his dark eyes staring down in the brown tea.

Alfred's face softened. Bruce probably didn't realise that what he was going through right now was also something the butler himself had experienced. Albeit Alfred and Bruce had never bonded the same way Dick and the Dark Knight had, it still had been quite solemn to see how Bruce evolved and grew up from the grieving eight-year-old child with a fright for bats, to the fierce, strong, powerful and wise crime-fighter of Gotham, as well as a father for the young Dick Grayson.

The transformation was almost unbelievable, but it had happened. Bruce was a grown up man with his own son who he now watched slip away from his fatherly grasp. It wasn't that Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne would ever stop caring deeply for one another in a father-son way, but the Boy Wonder was now growing rapidly.

Sooner or later, Alfred knew Dick would leave them to explore the world. Explore his options, make memories and go through various experiences that were necessary for him.

"You're quite correct Master Bruce," Alfred spoke as he seated himself in the couch opposite of the Wayne heir. "Time has this rather irritating trait of passing fast when we want to freeze it and move slow when one wants it to move rapidly." A small smile formed on the butler's lips. "But in the end, I suppose it passes just as it should."

Bruce always found it comforting that Alfred was so wise. True, the Caped Crusader was not an ignorant, young lad himself anymore. His knowledge was expanded and without many limits, but when all was said and done Alfred's wisdom could surpass his own at certain aspects. The butler was just awesome like that. Always knew what to say and what to do in any situation; something Bruce (and Batman) shamelessly had to admit was not always the case with him.

"He's grown up," Bruce finally said, his voice quiet and empty. "And I hardly realised it."

"Well, he _is_ a teenage boy. They tend to grow quite fast, though I'm sure you mean more in years than on the outside. Master Richard, although he does not like me saying so, is not of the lot that hit puberty first, if you know what I mean. However, he _has_ gotten a lot taller recently."

Bruce was about to reply, but was interrupted by the voice of said teen they were discussing. Apparently, the youngster of Wayne Manor was on the phone.

"Seriously, KF, _relax_. I'm sure it won't be that bad," the dark haired teen said as he entered the living room. He served his elders a slight, absentminded wave, before his blue eyes turned to the ceiling, obviously focusing on whatever the speedster was saying on the other line. "So what if your aunt has planned a family gathering after graduation? I doubt it's the end of the world."

There was silence for a couple of moments as Dick fumbled around in the kitchen that was linked to the living room.

"You know, I feel insulted when you talk about your family like that," said Dick with a sigh, his voice lower now, but clear enough for Bruce and Alfred to hear. "You should be happy you have them around with you. Sure, you're dad's an asshole and your mother's been put in the mental hospital, so _of course_ I understand that this is hard for you, but your uncle and aunt is doing their very best so that you can be with the rest of the family like normal. They still care about you. Barry and Iris loves you like you were their own."

There was a long moment of silence. Bruce exchanged brief looks with Alfred.

"Yeah, I'll come by tomorrow, 'kay? We can talk more then _and_ yes, of course I'll be there when you graduate," Dick finally said, before he hung up and placed his cell-phone back in his pocket.

Realising that he had audience (which he was pretty much aware of in the first place but he had no idea they were actually staring at him), Dick turned to meet his mentor's eyes. They didn't need to say anything to each other, because Bruce knew what it had been all about. Short said, Dick was trying to help Wally through some pretty hard times. The way he was handling it made Bruce sort of proud actually.

Dick was just what Wally needed, he was sure.

"KF's graduating soon, three weeks to be exact," Dick informed them. "You'll be there, right?"

When Dick said 'right' it was really a clear warning that if they weren't there he would not talk to them for months. Luckily, Bruce knew Alfred would be writing this down so he would most likely not forget.

Sure, Batman was tough enough to handle an outraged Robin, but Bruce Wayne did not like handling an outraged Dick Grayson. It was, believe it or not, somewhat different.

"We'll be there."

The beaming smile that was sent their way made Bruce's mood darken somewhat. He watched solemnly as his son (who was far too grown up for his own liking) exited and then turned to Alfred. "I still believe time passes far to quickly."

Later that night, Batman returned from patrol. Robin had been out with his team and therefore had not accompanied him. To be honest, the crime-fighter of Gotham had not expected Robin to be home before him. Mostly, because the mission did not come into the 'easy' category. However, he found no other than his adoptive son lying on his bed (which had not occurred in _years_) when he was showered and ready to sleep.

"Dick? What are you doing here?" asked Bruce, frowning. Had he not been Batman he would probably expressed shock.

The sixteen-year-old boy was dressed in a black T-shirt and red boxer shorts. He was lying up against one of his bat-shaped pillows (Dick had bought them in a Batman fan-store, mostly to annoy him, Bruce was sure) with a book in his hand.

Blue eyes turned to look at him and Dick let go of a smirk. "Lying in your bed."

"So I can see. May I ask _why_?"

His protégé shrugged his shoulders, eyes absentmindedly going back to the book for a second, before he put it on the nightstand. Then, out of nowhere, Dick's blue eyes lost all spark and was replaced by pure solemn and hurt. It caught Bruce off guard to be honest and he also was quite impressed how his ward had kept up such a happy outlook. He had even fooled the Batman with that one.

"It's _the day_," whispered Dick. "You've been busy, so I concluded you didn't remember."

_The day_. Bruce hated that day with passion and yet, the feeling of it was sort of bittersweet. The plus with it was that Dick become his - his son, his _responsibility_) - the down points were the loss the poor boy had gone through. Bruce could simply not understand he'd forgotten all about this date.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"It's all right. I didn't expect you too and honestly, I've tried to just… to just ignore it, but…" Dick looked up at his father, big blue eyes a bit glossy. "Can I… do you mind if I sleep here? Just… one last time."

_One last time… never again, Bruce. Never again, but today…_

It hurt. It ached deep within him, but Bruce Wayne didn't let it show. With a small smile, something that had become rarer as Dick had grown, Bruce nodded his head quietly. The billionaire settled down in his bed, eyes closed and breath going steady. He heard shifting from the sidelines and knew Dick was settling in as well.

Bruce didn't know how long he had laid there, but he knew that when he felt some arms wrap around his torso and a face pressing itself against his ribs, the pain he, himself, felt eased somewhat.

Time passed too quickly. Dick grew too fast. But, some things never changed.

Or, at least not the safety of having each other changed. Having a twenty-year-old Dick in his bed was not an option. Bruce just wished he could get one last day where his hyperactive, talented, wonderful son would be back to being nine.

So dependent of him, so helpless and with a burning adoration for his bat-suited mentor.

So ready to take on the world.

So ready to show his worth, his talents.

Bruce loved that kid. Loved this teen. Would love the young man and the adult to come.

Always.

* * *

><p><strong>-o-<strong>

_Of all the things I still remember__  
><em>_Summer's never looked the same__  
><em>_The years go by and time just seems to fly by__  
><em>_But the memories remain…_

_~ Daughtry, September_

**-o-**

**THE END**


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